I woke up at 8:30 AM on Saturday morning to my mom telling Chef Mike that my brother’s wife went to the hospital at 2 AM, she was going to have the baby soon. We all hurried to get ready so we could be there for the birthing. We hurried up to wait apparently…
I always pictured the whole birthing process to be like you see it in the movies. You rush to the hospital and the heavily-breathing mother gets pushed into the operating room on a gurney, with the family running behind her. The door shuts in the face of the family who then paces back and forth for a few minutes before a nurse comes out and says it’s a boy or a girl. Then the family walks to a window where 50 babies sit in a room behind a glass window. The family points the new addition to the family, cry, fawn and hug. Then the proud poppa comes out and gives everyone cigars.
Nope, that’s not how it works at all. The quick urgent feeling in the movies couldn’t be further from the truth.
My mom, dad, girlfriend, Chef Mike and I got there and went to the room where my brother and his wife were getting ready. My brother walked out of the door and closed it behind him, told us to sit tight and that the baby would be here in 30 minutes. Yeah right.
We waited in the waiting room (cause that’s what you do in a waiting room is wait). You sit inside a glass window much like these babies in movies do, people walking by and looking in on your like you’re a caged animal. You kind of are really, until the moment the baby comes and you can get out. Its like the penalty box.
Hour one rolled by. Hour two. We all went for a walk. I bought a pack of cards and we played war. Hour three went by. Hour Four. Then a text from my brother, should be any second. Hour five. Hour six. Then another text that just said ‘C Section’. We all went to eat, cause that’s what you do after sitting for 6 hours and you’ve watched Sex and the City for hours, you need food. Then we came back to the waiting room, no news. “Man, where was this kid?! I’ll go in there myself with some salad tongs and pull that kid out if they need me to…”
Suddenly, after hours of waiting and during our 50th game of War; I got a text message that said, “IT’S A BOY. Cian Thomas Smith. Pronounced kee un.”
The entire room slowed down, like a bullet time scene in the Matrix. Its unbelievable to me the feeling that you get when a new family member appears out of what appears thin air, after months of anticipation and hours of waiting. We all hugged each other, my step dad, my mom and I sharing a special moment with my girlfriend and Chef Mike. My step dad was so touched when he heard that his name would be the baby’s middle name that he cried.
Immediately, I sent out a million text messages and phone calls to everyone that knew, my sisters, my other nephew. My stepdad let himself out to have a private moment with his mom, a first time great grandmother. Through the window, I saw tears stream from his eyes.
Finally we would get to see this kid! I figured we would all stand outside a window and get to see my new nephew like in the movies, I guess that doesn’t happen either.
We would take turns going to see mommy and the new baby in a recovery room instead. My mom went first, then my step dad then me. As my brother and I walked through the hallway to see Cian, I felt so proud of my brother. He was once this little turd who couldn’t stop getting in trouble and now he’s a father.
I thought about what our Dad must be thinking in heaven or hell or pregatory or wherever he is. He always told me that I raised Sean, because my mother was always working and he was gone out of our life. That meant I was the only one to take care of him, tell him right from wrong. Hell, when my bro got thrown out of the house for being a degenerate, he lived with me when I was in college. I always tried to steer him clear of trouble, but I probably wasn’t very good at it. It wasn’t until he met his wife that he finally got his stuff together. And now look at him…
Its weird to think that my brother who is three years younger than me, who I practically raised, who was the biggest fuck up growing up; is already married, has a kid and is making roughly 4 times what I make out here in Hollywood.
He’s all grown up. I’m still not there yet. Its like I’m the little brother now.
I know my step dad lets me know it enough. Every time I visit him, he hits me with snide remarks and comments about how I’m not living up to his standard. It fucking hurts. Its not like I’m not trying. I’d love to have all the things that my brother does; money, family, nice clothes and a house but I can’t right now. I’m trying like hell to get further along, to have a high paying job in Hollywood, to make something of myself. I don’t need the pressure from him, my own guilt is pressure enough.
But all of that melted away the minute I saw Cian Thomas, the cutest baby in the world. He melted my heart. I’m a proud uncle for the second time, this being the first time I was there for the actual pregnancy and birthing. Man it feels good.
As you can see, he’s a big kid already. It took his mommy like 16 hours to try to pop him out, only to finally get a C section. Man, that must of hurt…
Honestly, today feels weird because of Cian, but in a good way. Its like everything that I have on plate seems a little less important. All of these problems that I was having, all the worries about money, career, status and everything aren’t nearly as important as that 8 lbs. 4 oz, 21 and a half inch little boy that lives in Phoenix. He has his whole life ahead of him and two loving parents that care about him so much, and two grandparents… and one uncle…
1 comment:
Congratulations man. It is an amazing feeling. And it will be fun for the rest of your life. The uncle is definitely the prime position. You can teach him (or in my niece's case, her) to say crazy stuff and give them their first drum set.
Post a Comment